


Becoming

by darke_wulf



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Mentors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 02:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darke_wulf/pseuds/darke_wulf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The mediocre mentor tells. The good mentor explains. The superior mentor demonstrates. The great mentor inspires, encourages and takes you into the trenches.”  ~ Navtaj Chandhoke<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming

**Author's Note:**

> _Disclaimer: I don't own them. I'm not making money from them._
> 
> _Author’s Notes:  As is typical for my “Young Justice” stories, I’m running with a slightly kinder, gentler Batman – which in my mind is in-character with how he is presented in the YJ universe._
> 
> Previously posted elsewhere.

**I. Artemis**

She refused to cry. She hadn’t cried in years. No matter how bad things had gotten; no matter what her Father had put her through.

So why did she find herself fighting back tears now, over nothing more than a few words spoken by an idiot whose opinion shouldn’t matter.

Having learned her lessons well, even when she was distraught her guard remained up. So she sensed him approach – granted he wasn’t actually trying to hide his presence. He stepped up to her side, a silent shadow joining her on her perch – the highest of the roofs of the Gotham Gazette Building.

Artemis lasted ten minutes under that intense gaze – she was rather proud of herself for that. “They don’t trust me.” She eventually blurted out, skipping to the heart of the matter.

“Of course not,” he snorted. “You’ll have to earn their trust. It’s not something that should just be handed out.”

“But they aren’t even giving me a chance! No matter what I do, they’re always looking for the trap, for some hidden motive. It’s not fair!”

Batman scoffed. “They are cautious of you because they can tell that you’re hiding something. You need to tell them the truth. Having them learn it from you in a controlled situation is significantly preferable to them finding out in the middle of a battle from an enemy.”

“But what if they kick me off the team?”

“They won’t.”

“How can you be so certain?”

What might have been, on someone else, a smug smile pulled at the corners of Batman’s mouth. “Because I control who is and is not on this team. And until you actually betray us, or do something else that merits dismissal, you’ll remain a member.”

“But…”

“Kid Flash resents you, because he sees you as taking Red Arrow’s place. He’ll continue to make a nuisance of himself in the hope that it will drive you to quit, but he won’t leave himself as long as Robin is on the team. Superboy has no room to judge you; he is even more suspect than you given his origins. Miss Martian is far too naïve; she will refuse to believe you’re an enemy unless provided with irrefutable evidence. Aqualad is more realistic, but he is fair. He will be cautious of you, but will remain relatively open-minded. Robin trusts me, and so he will be willing to give you a chance to earn his trust yourself.

“As long as you are the one to tell them the truth. If they discover from another source, they will be far more inclined to assume the worst, and more difficult to convince of your… relative… innocence.”

She cringed at the ‘relative innocence’ comment, not proud of her past and what she had done. But knowing she had Batman’s support – such as it was – did reassure her. All she wanted was a chance to prove herself to her teammates, and it was apparent that he was going to do his best to give her that opportunity.

He was right, though. She would need to tell her teammates her story – all of it. And soon; Cheshire would take great pleasure in relating to Young Justice her version of Artemis’ past.

“Would you be there, when I tell them? Just in case?”

Batman regarded her for several long moments, then gave a single nod. Artemis’ shoulders slumped as she felt a wave of relief run through her. She realized that she still had an uphill battle in front of her, even with Batman’s support. But she had faced worse odds and won. At least this time, she knew she wouldn’t be alone.

“Thank – “

She stopped speaking when she turned back to where Batman had been standing, only to find that he had taken advantage of her moment of inattention to leave without a word. Now she knew where Robin had picked up that irritating habit.

Looking out over Gotham again, the signal lighting the night’s sky told her what had drawn him away. Shaking her head, she murmured, “Thank you.”

She took one last look out over the city, silently wishing Batman and Robin luck with whatever had come up, then began the trip back home. She had a lot of planning to do.

******

**II. Kaldur’ahm**

Kaldur sighed as he stood outside the main entry to Mount Justice. The cold night rain pounded down on his bowed head, but he barely noticed it. In his mind he was running over every second of his team’s last mission, trying to determine what he could – what he should – have done differently in order to prevent the disaster that had occurred.

It had seemed like a simple data retrieval mission, a quick in-and-out affair, similar to ones they had successfully completed at least a dozen times. And yet, it had ended with all of them needing medical attention… some more than others.

Robin, though the last to fall, had been the least injured – besides Kaldur himself, who had been knocked out but only suffered a mild concussion. Robin’s years of training under Batman had served him well yet again, and he had managed to avoid the majority of the attacks of the enemy soldiers – while simultaneously aggravating said soldiers with his verbal barbs – until his teammates had fallen and he had become hopelessly outnumbered. In addition to a plethora of bumps and bruises, his left arm had been broken and the shoulder on the same side dislocated. He also had two broken and three bruised ribs, and had needed stitches on two serious knife wounds. But he would heal. At least, that’s what Kaldur had been told, and he didn’t think that Dinah would sugarcoat things – it wasn’t her style.

M’Gann had been placed in a medically-induced coma, and her uncle had had to enter her mind to attempt to fix the damage done when the enemy’s telepath had attacked her, shredding through her mental defenses as if they were not there. He normally vibrant skin had looked almost gray against the starched white sheets when Kaldur had seen her, and her normally animated face had been far too still. J’onn had recommended that she be kept asleep for the next week, and he indicated he would be coming in daily to interact with her mind, but had assured the League that she, too, would recover.

Conner was being bathed in light, as the full-spectrum sunlamps set up above his bed worked their healing magic. His chest and thigh were both bandaged; kryptonite bullets had torn into him and become wedged in his body, requiring surgery to remove. The enemy had taken advantage of his weakened condition to get in as much physical punishment as they could, and he, too, had required several sets of stitches. The sunlamps were doing their job, however – the lesser bruises had already started to disappear when Kaldur had last checked in on him.

Wally’s legs had been practically crushed when a portion of the building in which they had fought had fallen on top of him. While his increased healing would allow him to be back in action in two or three months, the severity of the injury and what the result could have been weighed heavily on Kaldur’s mind.

Artemis… Artemis had died. Her heart had stopped, and it had taken the medics nearly three minutes to get it started again. She was alive now, even breathing on her own, but she had…

Kaldur collapsed onto the ground as his emotions overwhelmed him. Kneeling, he curled in on himself with his arms wrapped around his stomach. It was his fault. He was the leader; he made the decisions. He should have done… something… been better, more observant… anything.

He was brought out of his self-flagellation when he realized that he was no longer under assault from the wind and rain that raged around him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that he was surrounded by a black, cloth-like material – which was very familiar to him and the rest of Young Justice. He lowered his head again, squeezing his eyes shut as he fought back the tears that wanted to fall. He had shown enough weakness. He would not disgrace himself further, especially not in front of this man.

Doing his best to brace himself, he looked up at Batman, an apology heavy on his lips.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

The quiet murmur brought Kaldur up short, not having expected it.

What might have been a sigh, or merely the howling wind, preceded a large, gauntleted hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “You had no way of knowing, not with the information you were provided, that the team was walking into a trap. There was nothing you could have done to prevent what happened.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Had it been anyone else, Kaldur would have been easily able to discount the words as pretty lies, meant only to make him feel better. But Batman didn’t believe in lying, not when it meant ignoring a mistake that could be repeated in the future. If there had been something Kaldur had missed, something he should have done differently… surely Batman would be saying so… Kaldur wanted to believe that was the case; he longed to accept the absolution that was being offered.

Unconsciously, Kaldur leaned towards the solid body that stood next to him, almost but not quite touching. Together the two remained on the ledge, staring out into the violent night.

It took Kaldur longer than it should have to realize that, while he was protected from the storm, safely ensconced under Batman’s cape, the older man had no such protection. And yet he hadn’t complained, hadn’t rushed Kaldur, or tried to force him to move. Kaldur thought he now had a slightly better understanding of why Robin got so defensive whenever anyone made derisive comments about Batman’s supposed lack of a heart.

He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as he struggled to gather himself. “Thank you,” he finally murmured, pulling away from the other’s strength at last.

Batman drew back slightly and peered down at the kneeling teen. Kaldur did his best to show his sincerity and gratefulness, suspecting that any further words on his part would only make the other uncomfortable. There was one final clasp given to his shoulder, and then Batman pulled away with a nod as he headed back towards the door.

Kaldur slowly rose to his feet and followed, stumbling slightly after having been kneeling in one position for so long. Then his weary mind suddenly connected everything that Batman had said – and how he had said it.

“Batman,” he began, pausing when white-lensed eyes turned his way. Gathering his courage, he continued, “It wasn’t your fault, either. If the information had been there, if there had been any clues as to the truth, you would have found it.”

“The information is always there, Aqualad. That I didn’t find it just means that I didn’t look hard enough.”

Before Kaldur could protest, Batman turned around and re-entered the mountain.

******

**III. M’Gann**

It was chaos. The attackers had struck suddenly, hitting various cities throughout the world; the Justice League had had practically no warning. All hands were needed, and so Young Justice had been tasked with assisting in keeping the general populous safe.

They had been split up amongst their home cities, two of the younger heroes assigned to each of the League’s teams protecting Metropolis, Gotham, and Central City. Superboy and Kaldur had been assigned to Metropolis along with Steel, Vixen, Blue Beetle and Booster Gold – Superman and several of the other flight-capable heavy-hitters were fighting the main invasion force somewhere above Shanghai.

Kid Flash and Artemis were assisting Flash, Hawk, Dove, and Hawkgirl in Central City. M’Gann and Robin had been assigned to Batman’s team in Gotham along with Black Canary, the Huntress and Plastic Man. M’Gan herself was quite nervous, knowing how particular Batman could be regarding how things were done in his city. But she still did her best to help - while staying as out of the way as possible.

She was making her way towards the nearest safe house, arms full with two frightened little girls who had become separated from their father, when a group of six of the invaders landed in a loose circle around her, weapons drawn and pointed at her.

“Resistance will not be tolerated. Prepare to be terminated.”

M’gann froze, unable to think of a course of action. There were too many for her to try to take them on herself. She couldn’t make herself incorporeal, as that would only result in the children getting hit in her stead. Taking a deep breath – that did nothing to calm her racing nerves – she made her body as dense as possible, moving to shield the crying children with her body and closing her eyes as she braced herself for the attack.

She heard multiple weapons firing, but there was no resulting pain. Instead she felt arms come around her, pressing her and her cargo to a firm chest. Several small explosions went off far too close for comfort, causing her to try to burrow deeper into those protective arms.

The noise finally died down and only the more distant sounds of battle were audible. Still, she was leery of opening her eyes. Wasn’t there an old Earth belief of things not seen not actually being real?

“Batman!” the children in M’Gann’s arms cried, starting to squirm and reach towards their savior, requiring M’Gann to tighten her grip or risk dropping them. As she struggled with the children she forgot her trepidation and opened her eyes, only to find herself staring at a black stylized symbol of a bat.

She tilted her head up until her gaze met narrowed white lenses. “Status?” Batman growled when he saw that he had her attention.

“Stat… oh! Oh, I’m fine. Yes. Fine.”

“Thank you for saving us, Mister Batman,” one of the girls shyly whispered, gazing up at him with eyes red-rimmed from crying. Both of the girls were starting to calm down, their cries turning to sniffles as they realized they were safe.

“Yeah, thanks,” the other child echoed before burying her face in M’Gann’s shoulder.

Batman released M’Gann and took several steps back. He gave the children a single, solemn nod before turning his attention back to M’Gann.

“Get them to the police precinct, then rendezvous with Black Canary and remain with her.”

“Yes, sir.” M’Gann replied with a nod, doing her best to maintain eye contact and not look down or shuffle her feet. Or ask him to come with her. Because she was trying her best to be brave but she was scared and she didn’t want to let anyone down but the fear and pain of everyone around her was battering against her weakening shields and all she wanted to do was fly back to Mount Justice and hide under her bed until the world went back to normal and she just didn’t know if she was cut out to be a hero after all and she had felt so safe when he’d protected her and for one incredible moment there was silence in her head and she wasn’t ready to have to face the battle on her own again and…

“What are you waiting for?”

Batman’s question brought her racing thoughts to a sudden stop. Blinking her eyes, she glanced up to find that Batman had moved several steps away and was looking back at her over his shoulder, his billowing cape adding to his fearsome appearance, and yet -

“This way,” he gestured with his chin, then continued walking in said direction, head in constant motion as he surveyed their surroundings for threats. It took M’Gann a moment to realize his intention, and then a grin spread over her face as she jogged to catch up, tightening her hold on the girls in her arms momentarily. She moved in as near as she dared to his side until she and the children were ensconced in the wind-blown folds of his cape.

\- and yet, in spite of his usual demeanor and reputation -

“Canary? Rendezvous at the East Precinct. Ten minutes. B out.”

\- in spite his demanding nature and standoffish attitude -

“I’ll talk to J’onn about working on strengthening your shielding technique. You can’t allow yourself to be distracted during battle. I’m also going to add at least an hour a day of meditation into your training schedule. It should help with your shields and also your general concentration.”

\- she found herself ever so slightly jealous of Robin.

******

**IV. Wally**

Something was wrong. Wally might not be the most observant of people, but he hadn’t missed the looks he’d been getting from Black Canary throughout training. It was like she wanted to say something, but kept holding herself back. At the end of practice, she had come up to him, a concerned expression on her face. She’d opened her mouth, paused, then shook her head and placed a hand on his shoulder instead before leaving the room.

He glanced at the rest of his team, but they all looked as confused – and suspicious – as he felt. As different as they all were, one thing they did all agree on was that they hated to have things kept from them.

Shrugging, deciding to see to his immediate needs before trying to figure out what was up, Wally sped off towards the kitchen. He wanted a snack and a shower in that order. Then he’d start bugging the rest of the team until they agreed to help him get to the bottom of things.

When he stepped into the central area of Mount Justice, however, he came to an abrupt stop upon realizing that Batman, Black Canary, Wonder Woman and Green Lantern were all gathered in one corner, all of them looking angry.

Whatever they were discussing, Wally could tell that it was a volatile subject. Batman and Black Canary were glaring at the other Leaguers as they spoke. As soon as Green Lantern had finished, Batman slashed one hand across his body, clearly disagreeing with whatever had been said. He stepped closer to the other heroes, seeming to loom over them as he spoke.

Wally couldn’t help being curious. Trying to look as natural as possible, he made his way towards the kitchen, deliberately walking within hearing range of the conversation.

“…and if something happened to me, I would hope that one of you would have the decency to tell Robin, before it was too late.”

“You’re being melodramatic, Batman. Barry’s going to be fine!”

Wally’s heart skipped a beat. Faster than thought, he was at Wonder Woman’s side. “Something’s happened to Uncle Barry?”

Wonder Woman and Green Lantern both glared at Batman, though when Diana turned to Wally, a compassionate smile slid onto her face. Reaching out, she placed her hands on Wally’s shoulders, bending down slightly to look into his face. “Wally, take it easy. Everything’s fine.”

The lie was obvious, and unappreciated. He wasn’t a baby that needed coddling! Wally shrugged out of Diana’s light grasp, his mind catching up with the argument he’d just been listening to and the pieces fell into place. Understanding the situation, he turned to the one person there he trusted to tell him the truth. “What happened?”

Batman, who had been staring at Wonder Woman with his best ‘I am not impressed’ look, turned his full attention to Wally. “First, it’s not life threatening. He will recover.”

Before Wally could scream out his frustration and demand to be told what had happened Batman continued.

“He was caught in an explosion while evacuating civilians from a chemical plant that had caught fire. He suffered a serious concussion, two broken ribs, a punctured lung and a number of cuts and bruises from flying shrapnel. He’s already successfully come out of surgery, and is expected to make a full recovery. ”

Batman’s calm, clinical voice helped Wally remain focused as he took in the list of his Uncle’s injuries. It sounded bad, but Batman said Barry would be all right. He believed that Batman would tell him the truth. So, while his uncle might be laid up for a bit, he would recover. Still…

“Can I go see him?”

Green Lantern frowned, looking uncomfortable, “He’s on the Watchtower…”

“Of course.”

Batman spoke over top of the other man, and the Lantern turned a disapproving expression onto him. “Batman…”

Not acknowledging Green Lantern, Batman turned towards the teleporters. “Let’s go.”

Wally hurried after Batman, not wanting to risk the other heroes convincing Batman to change his mind. Together they stepped onto the teleporter and were beamed up to the Watchtower.

******

“He looks… bad.”

Wally had been unprepared for just how terrible his uncle would look. Barry had been stripped of his costume, and was dressed in a hospital gown. His face was nearly unrecognizable – one eye was swelled completely shut, the other had a dark bruise around it. The visible portion of his body was covered in cuts and bandages, which only added to his beaten appearance.

Without thinking, Wally reached out and grabbed Batman’s hand, needing something to hold onto, to keep him from flying out of the room in a panic. Only when he felt the man beside him tensing did he realize what he had done. Immediately he let go, expecting to be yelled at, but Batman just slowly started walking towards Barry’s hospital bed. Wally remained frozen in the doorway, eyes not leaving his uncle’s face.

Batman turned and bit back a sigh, wishing he’d brought Robin with them. Slowly he approached Wally, reminding himself that this was Robin’s best friend – and that he’d had the forethought to disable all the cameras in the room. Placing a hand on Wally’s shoulder, Batman gently led the teen towards the hospital bed on which the Flash rested. As soon as Wally was moving on his own, Batman let his hand drop to his side, but he continued to follow closely behind him.

Wally finally stopped at Barry’s bedside and hesitantly reached out to take his uncle’s hand, only to freeze when he noticed the IV attached to it. Jerking back, his hands fluttered aimlessly before finally settling atop the bed’s side railing.

“H…hey, Uncle Barry,” Wally stuttered, hands clenching until his knuckles were white, “Batman brought me up to see you. He says you’re going to be ok, and I know I should believe him, but I’d feel a whole lot better if you’d wake up. I wish I could stay until you do, but I don’t know if the League will let me – Wonder Woman and Green Lantern didn’t really want me up here in the first place. I’m pretty sure that they’re going to send be back home soon. But at least I got to come see you, and tell you I’m thinking about you, and that I hope you get better soon…”

Batman’s communicator beeped, interrupting Wally. He looked up at Batman worriedly, certain that he’d be forced to leave his uncle’s side. Batman turned towards the door, pulling the communicator from his utility belt, “I’ll be outside. Take as much time as you need.”

Wally turned back to Barry, moving to the other side of the bed so he could hold his hand, and picked up his monologue, telling him about everything that had happened since they had last talked. Then he went on to talk about the other members of Young Justice, and how they were all doing. When no one came in to kick him out he eventually pulled one a chair over to the bed and sat down, continuing to keep watch.

Several hours later he woke up with a start, displacing the blanket that had been placed over him.

“Be at ease, Kid Flash, all is well,” a familiar – though unexpected – voice reassured him while gentle hands eased him back down into the chair.

Wally looked up, meeting a compassionate red gaze. “J’onn, what are you doing here? Is something wrong with Uncle Barry?” Wally gasped, leaping up faster than J’onn could react and speeding over to Barry’s side. He desperately looked over Barry, trying to see what could require the League’s medic, but nothing seemed to have changed, “He’s not in a coma, is he? He’s just sleeping, right? There’s nothing -”

“Calm yourself, Kid Flash. Your uncle is fine. Batman was called back to Gotham. He asked that I… play guard dog if you will, to ensure that the others in the League did not interrupt your time with Flash.”

“Oh, cool. Thanks.”

“It is of no matter. Robin is with him, but he had these sent for you,” J’onn handed Wally a Tupperware container holding what looked to be a batch of Alfred’s chocolate chip cookies, “though you are also more than welcome to make use of the cafeteria her eon the Watchtower.”

“Awesome, Rob! Thanks for passing them along, J’onn,” Wally said as he started to dig into the cookies. He paused as his mind drifted to a large hand on his shoulder, a reassuring presence at his back, and a deep voice defending his right to see his uncle. Swallowing his mouthful, he made a mental note to thank Batman as well…

…though maybe with a _card_.

******

**V. Conner**

He was beyond anger; he was completely numb. He wasn’t sure what he could possibly have done, what sins he must have committed in a past life, to deserve his current one. He had been created from stolen DNA to be, ultimately, nothing more than a weapon. He had been raised in what amounted to a test tube and treated like he was a monster. When he had finally been released, found some friends, and dared to hope that his life would get better, the main donor of his DNA, the being he considered his Father, had turned his back on him – couldn’t even stand to look at him.

Now, he finally discovers the identity of his second ‘father’, only for him to turn out to be Lex Luthor, a ruthless villain who wanted Superman – and by extension Superboy – dead… painfully if possible.

It was late, but he remained sitting on a couch in the living room, static playing on the television in front of him, though he had lowered the volume out of respect for his sleeping teammates. Desperately he tried to lose himself in the crackle and hiss, as he tried to clear his mind of the events of the day.

The mission had gone well; surprisingly without a single hitch. They had gotten the desired information and made it back to Mount Justice before Cadmus had even known that they were there. As with all information they recovered from Cadmus, Conner hadn’t been able to resist reading through it. He knew he shouldn’t, that it was classified, and that he and the rest of his team were being trusted to recover it while minding their own business. With any other opponent, he could easily ignore the temptation – in fact, there was seldom even any temptation to resist. But when it was knowledge from the organization that had created him, he couldn’t help himself. He had to read anything recovered; he was desperate to see, to understand, to gather as much information as he could regarding his existence in the world and the reasons behind it.

Even knowing that the information he found was almost always negative, and would inevitably batter his already vulnerable self-esteem, could not curb his need to know.

And so now he sat alone at three in the morning, trying to come to terms with this latest in a long list of unwelcome revelations.

“Robin tells me you aren’t handling today’s discovery well.”

Conner started, not having heard Batman’s approach. He still couldn’t figure out how the man could move so silently; he was just a normal human, it should be impossible for him to sneak up on either Super – man or boy – and yet he managed to do just that on a regular basis.

Batman’s words put Conner on the defensive. He slouched further into the couch, and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes remained glued to the television screen.

“That’s none of your business. Or his.”

“It is my business when you don’t sleep, because you are too busy wallowing in self pity,” Batman replied, his cape flowing behind him as he moved into the darkened room and approached Conner. “It’s my business when you’re performance suffers, because you’re mind isn’t on matters at hand. It’s my business when you endanger your teammates with your confusion and self-doubts.”

“We completed the mission fine!” Conner protested, straightening from his previous slouch, refusing to back down, even though he had to admit, Batman’s now still form - lit only by the chaotic bursts of light thrown into the room from the television - was more intimidating than several of the villains he’d faced in his admittedly short life.

“You didn’t read the file until after you’d returned to base. But it’s not difficult to determine how things are going to transpire in the future. Every time you learn something about your… history that you don’t like, you throw the same temper tantrum; pushing everyone away, striking out at the world, until you manage to almost get you and your teammates killed by not paying appropriate attention during a mission.”

Conner clenched his fists tightly, so very tempted to physically strike out at the overbearing Bat that was demeaning him, dismissing him in such a brusque manner. “So what, you’re pulling me from the team? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m pulling the team from active duty until you stop feeling sorry for yourself and come to terms with Luthor’s DNA being used in your creation. Thus far, no one has died because of your stupidity. I’m going to make sure it stays that way.”

“You bastard!” Conner shouted, standing up from the couch and taking a step towards Batman. “How dare you judge me?! How would you like it, knowing that your ‘family’ hates you – that one of your Fathers wants to kill you, and the other can’t even stand to be in the same room as you? You don’t understand what it’s like. You don’t get it. No one does.”

Batman sneered derisively. “Do you think you’re the only one in the world to have family issues? Do you think you’re the only one on your team to have family issues? It could be argued that your situation is actually better than some of your teammates.”

“Who?! You know so much, tell me who else has to deal with this shit.”

“No. When they want you to know, they’ll tell you themselves. Just bear in mind, while you’re whining about the unfairness of the universe, that there are others suffering just as much, if not more, than you – and they are doing so with significantly less histrionics.”

“Yeah, well good for them. I guess that’s one more way that I don’t stack up. At least they all have mentors, though. Somebody to train them and look out for them. I’m alone.”

“What about Young Justice?” Batman asked, disappointment clear in his voice. “The team… cares… for you. They’re worried about you, but don’t know how to help because you won’t let them in. You can’t keep pushing them away. You can’t let yourself drown in your anger and resentment. You’ll wind up becoming one of the criminals you currently fight.”

“Speaking from personal experience?” Conner snorted, turning away, not wanting to hear yet another lecture.

Batman didn’t answer at first. Silently he looked down at Conner, causing him to grow increasingly nervous. “Look,” Conner finally spoke, not able to take the silence any longer, “I’m sor…”

“Yes.” The response was so quiet, wouldn’t have heard it if not for his super hearing.

Conner was stunned speechless, and could only stare open-mouthed at the man he had always considered aloof and uncaring.

“Obviously, I didn’t fall that far,” Batman continued, turning to look at the wall, “but I did fall. I lost myself to the battle, could only see my failures, pushed everyone away…”

“So… so what changed?” Conner whispered, enthralled.

Batman turned his head back to regard Conner, meeting the other’s gaze. “Robin.”

“I never meant to take him on as an apprentice, but he didn’t give me much choice. He refused to be pushed away, and he refused to let me continue to wallow. You may have noticed; he can be stubborn at times.”

“Yeah, don’t know where he gets that.”

A slight cocking of the head reminded Conner whom he was speaking to, “Err… I mean…”

Batman just turned on his heel and started to stalk from the room, ignoring the teen’s stammering. “Don’t be late tomorrow. Teenage melodrama is not an acceptable excuse for missing training.”

Conner’s anger, which had been nearly banked, fired up again at this perceived dismissal. Before he could form his retort, however, Batman paused, body tensed in the doorway.

Conner held his tongue, waiting warily to see what else Batman had to say.

“If… you ever need… someone to… talk… to – other than Robin or your other teammates, or Black Canary, or Red Tornado…” Batman didn’t finish, grunting instead and removing himself completely from the room, leaving Conner staring after him in shock. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that Batman just…

Conner collapsed back onto the couch, gaze still stuck on the now empty doorway.

“He’s right, you know.”

The quiet voice from behind him had him leaping back up and spinning around, only to see Robin standing there, hands tucked casually into his pajama pants, sunglasses perched on his face.

“What?”

“We’re family. Young Justice. And we’re here for you – all of us – if you ever need someone to talk to, or rant at, or just sit there with you and watch static.”

“Including…”

“Yeah, even Batman. Though he’d probably be better at the sitting and watching static than the rest of it. Generally, at least, he’s not really all that comfortable with heart to hearts. Though he does he best… but you already knew that.”

Conner turned back to the doorway where Batman had disappeared, grunting noncommittally, still not quite believing what had happened.

Robin’s laughter brought his attention back to the other boy. “Then again, something tells me you guys might just speak the same language when it comes to that stuff.”

“Huh?”

Robin brushed Conner’s question aside, still giggling. “Never mind. We should get back to sleep. He wasn’t kidding about not being late… little bro.”

Ignoring the warmth infusing his chest – a slightly disturbing sensation – Conner asked, “Little brother? I’m older than you.”

“Hah. I don’t care how ‘old’ you supposedly are physically. You’ve been alive what, ten months? Clearly you’re the younger brother. Which means you should respect and listen to your older brother, who is wiser and more handsome and…Yikes!” Robin cried, slipping out of Conner’s grasp and back flipping down the hall towards his bedroom, renewed laughter echoing in his wake.

“Goodnight, baby brother,” he sang out as he shut – and locked – his door.

Conner just shook his head as he finally entered his own room, a small smile on his face. Maybe he wasn’t as alone as he had thought…  



End file.
